


Regret

by Tanalilt



Category: Metal Gear
Genre: Angst, I'm a firm believer that happy endings in MGS don't exist, M/M, Unrequited Love, all of the angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-28
Updated: 2014-05-28
Packaged: 2018-01-26 23:06:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1705877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tanalilt/pseuds/Tanalilt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It is 2014, and Ocelot lays dying. All he can see is the opportunities he missed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Regret

The year is 1964, and they are in the having an all-out fist fight in the body of an airplane as the spy up front, Eva, attempts to steer them to safety. They are fairly evenly matched - Snake’s skill, and Ocelot’s determination. Rolling around on the floor of the plane, punches and kicks and grabs and holds, possibly a cracked rib and a sprained wrist, as they end their confrontation in a showdown. 

Names exchanged, Ocelot - Adamska, now - wondered if there could be more to this than secrets and Cold Wars. When he looked at Snake - now John - he saw a figure of strength, strong will, and the most handsome face he’d had the pleasure to look upon. The perfect soldier, and he wanted him all to himself. Though he hadn’t thought about it at the time, that’s probably why he had followed him all the way onto this plane - he didn’t know enough yet. 

Pistols were drawn, a bullet in one of the chambers as they stand across from each other, and with the command, clicking through the chambers until the sound of a familiar crack of a gun being fired, but nothing coming out.

A blank. Who knew?

It must have been fate. Adamska gave the man one last look over, turning to the open door of the plane, to allow for their escape. “We’ll meet again, John,” he promised, with a signature smirk and hand gesture. John responded with a smile of his own, and Adamska felt an urge to claim the man as his own; take his lips in a kiss, with the spy up front watching them, and take the man all for himself. The feeling passed in a mere second, after a second look back, and with a signature salute, he jumped into the water from the low flying plane, thinking about him for the entire swim back.

\---

The year is 1968, and Snake and Ocelot have met for the first time outside of a battlefield. Though it was mostly a coincidence, Ocelot had taken a mission after hearing that he may be facing a legendary soldier, and since they had fought before, they trusted him to be able to work around Big Boss again. (He could, he knew. It wasn’t difficult to outsmart Snake, just beat him in an outright fight. Trust, however - was another issue.) 

Though they hadn’t interacted directly, they had managed to meet by chance after everything was over after Ocelot had caught sight of an eye patch and strong jaw from the window of a pub in Germany. A few moments were tense, until Ocelot had ordered them both a drink, and they had fallen into a surprisingly easy rhythm after that.

No one spoke directly of what they were working on or with, but what parts of the world were best to be assigned to, best foods to find in which towns, and a rough inquiry of how the older of the two was doing with just one eye. Several drinks in, Ocelot’s face warm and face unable to come out of an endearing smile, the urge to claim came to him again - to kiss the smile from John’s face, and maybe stop that aching that had begun to spring up over two years ago whenever he thought back to him. They sat, gazing at each other for a long moment in silence, Ocelot running his tongue over his lips once as he, caring little about subtlety, let his eyes then run along the figure of the man in front of him.

John cleared his throat, then gestured to the bartender for two more drinks - his last, before calling it a night. Adamska could still feel the pull toward the other man several days later, long after he had gone.

\---

1971, after San Hieronymo, was the next time they saw each other in person; the forming of the Patriots, which he had insisted on involving Snake. It was amazing, working side by side with Snake for the first time. And as they worked through the days, they grew closer on their nights as they planned, often drank, and on occasion, played, in the most vague description of the word. 

Para-Medic had insisted on seeing movies, and dragging Snake (who knew nearly nothing of pop culture) and Ocelot (whose film viewing was limited to Russian propaganda and spaghetti westerns) along with. They often got food as they moved, less worry about being seen in foreign lands while not associated with any one country. They bought motorcycles, and raced with Eva down coastlines and mountain paths. They drank, and Ocelot watched as Eva draped herself over Snake’s shoulders, an effortless show of possession that sparked in him competitive jealousy.

John and Adamska sparred in hotel rooms and cash-only apartment rentals, and learned technique and shared war stories and drank, often times crashing in whatever abode the other was staying in, on the couch or the floor, or if it was big enough, the bed. A night of sleeping close was interrupted as John woke in the middle of the night to find Adamska’s hand tracing his face, their feet close to tangled together.

They fucked that night - loud and rough and exhausting - and Adamska came with John’s name on his lips, not once, but again and again, with a smile and love in his eyes. John was silent, but the pain in his expression was obvious as he couldn’t meet Adamska’s gaze afterward, turning back over almost immediately and feigning sleep.

The next morning, neither spoke of or acknowledged that anything had happened. John went about business as usual, and Adamska strived to. He could have meaningless sex all he wanted - but with John, it was different. With John, he only wanted it if John felt as strongly for him as he did for the soldier - which he had made apparent that he didn't. He wasn't going to go back and begged to be fucked, only to see the empty eyes avoiding him after the deed was done. Adamska didn't know if he could stand that a second time. The ache in his chest didn’t go away for years, long after he had given up the idea that John might ever love him back. 

\---

1975, and Ocelot has received news that the legendary Big Boss has fallen into a coma. Contrary to good decision making, he shoots the man who has given him the news. Eleven years is far too short a time to know someone before they go dying on you, he thought, and spent the next few days drinking - mostly alone, but when Eva finds him two days after he has received the news, he slides her the bottle without a word. They don’t talk as they drink - just sit in mutual refusal to accept what has happened, and the idea that, though he may not be dead now, their Boss may not be as immortal as he seems to be to them.

Eva leaves the next day, without a word. They don’t speak for another five years, and Ocelot spends the next nine tracking down Snake and any threat that someone might pose to him, and defending his body in that hospital with his life. 

In that nine years, he only visits the comatose man once, at the very beginning. His face is still in indifference as he sleeps, and reminds Ocelot too much of the face of indifference he made after rolling over in bed that night four years ago. His heart hasn’t healed, and so he protects him, but avoids seeing the man at all costs.

Their escape from the hospital is glorious. It pains him to see how the man’s muscles have deteriorated in nearly a decade, but loves the expression on Snake’s face as he sees how much Ocelot has grown and changed in that time. John looks at him like a savior on his horse, his chest and shoulder on Ocelot’s back as he shoots their pursuers with the one arm he currently has available to him. Ocelot is over the heartbreak, but it still brings him joy to feel the man’s warmth against his body, along with the slight shards of knowing that this can't last forever.

\---

They see each other on and off for the next few years - never away for too long, but never together for that long, either. Now in his forties, Ocelot is too old for pining away after a man who will never love him back, but he charges this still-strong affection into unquestioning devotion and loyalty. They formed yet another group, this time of mercenaries, and John became a public figure, working all sides of the field, while Ocelot remained in the shadows; his interrogation expert. 

On and off, it felt like the days when they were younger again - like his twenties had come back for another round, and he and John could own the world. Other days, when John was weary or angry, or had to ignore his association with Ocelot for publicity, it felt like torture worse than he could give out. Being pushed to the side. he endured, though. John needed him, and he would give John whatever he wanted, even if John gave him nothing in return.

\---

In 1999, they had fought. Not with fists and guns, but with words. It was a disagreement that, several months later, still not having spoken, Ocelot didn’t even remember the reason behind. When he received the news that John had died, however… he wished he could remember. Wished that even though it was a fight - an unpleasant memory, and one that he wished had never happened, it was still his last memory with John.  
It had left him with a completely empty feeling inside. For the first time in his life, he had abandoned his mission - some mercenary side-job that meant nothing but a few extra dollars to him - and sought refuge from the familiar field of war. This time, he went to Eva.

When he showed up at her door, her eyes were red, face missing any makeup she normally wore. When she closed the door behind them, they both broke into tears. Silent, but present, and sought comfort with someone they both knew loved John as much as they did. 

This time, they spoke. Talked about their best memories, and their worst. Talked about when they had realized that they were so in love, so wholly devoted to John, and when they realized that they were never going to get that in return. Both were surprised - they had figured John had chose the other of them; Ocelot over Eva, or Eva over Ocelot. Eva had continued sleeping with him, on occasion - and they knew John had slept with others, too. Others who had also fallen for him, though maybe not quite as hard. Hard enough to try, but not enough to sacrifice their lives.

Here they were - old human beings, crying over the one thing they wanted, but could never have.

After that night, they never saw each other on personal terms again.

\---

Sixteen years later, Ocelot’s heart stopped. Just for a moment, but the glimpse of who he thought was John out of the corner of his eye was the first thing to surprise him in sixteen years.

Solid Snake, as his code name was. One of the sons of the Boss. He had seen all of them as children, and now as adults - Liquid, and Solidus included, though neither carried their father’s spirit, face, voice, and charm as much as this one did. He was young - much younger than John had been when he had met him. Not near as much facial hair, and fewer lines on his face. He was smart, too. Not in the same way his ‘father’ had been, but in a more practical, tactical way. John, without the insane things that made him John. Except for, of course, the headband. 

For the first time in a long time, he was excited for a fight. This Snake fought almost as well as his, and for a moment, he felt like he was twenty again in Russia, arrogant and brash. 

When he strung up Solid Snake for torture, he contemplated slipping an eye patch over the man’s right eye, just for his own entertainment. He didn't, of course - far too much to focus on. But the idea made him chuckle. The man’s bare chest disappointed him a little - much too bare to be the man he knew, and his screams were different. In the back of his head, he thought - he was far too old to be looking at attractive young men, even if they were clones of John. His tastes had refined, anyways, as hair had greyed and lines and scars crossed faces.

\---

In 2014, Ocelot lay dying on the ground. He had never quite feared dying, but he had also never understood what it would feel like. Different for each person, he supposed. For him, it was regret.

Regret for all of the times he could have done more for John. Regret for not finding his parents. Regret for cutting Eva out of his life, when she was the only one he could relate to. Regret that the last conversation he had with John was an argument, and they had parted ways not speaking. Regret for never visiting his grave. Regret for the missed opportunities when he was younger, and John were perhaps a little less broken - that maybe, if he had come to his senses earlier, he wouldn’t have been broken by the rejection of his love.

When Solid Snake - John - just…. Snake - leaned over him, as he felt breath leave his lungs, he saw only John’s face, gazing sadly at his own. He hoped he hadn’t failed him. Hoped that John would be proud.

“You’re… pretty good.”


End file.
